Barrel Rider
by Alohamora Fantasy
Summary: Bilbo has trouble holding on to his barrel when escaping the woodelves, and things just go down hill from there. Hurt/comfort oneshot. No slash, just friendship.


**A/N: I liked this idea because it did not seem plausible to me that Bilbo could have held on the whole time the company rode down the river. This story is a mix of book and movie (movie being mostly the barrel scene) This is an AU, because Kili doesn't get injured in my story and Bard doesn't appear here (he comes later).**

**Disclaimer: All of these amazing characters belong to the amazing J.R.R Tolkien. Some themes come from Peter Jackson's movies and affiliated companies.**

The waters pulled viciously at Bilbo, trying to wrest him from the barrel that he clung to desperately. He couldn't even tell which dwarf was in the barrel, for all of his focus was concentrated on holding on to the slippery surface as the river pulled at him incessantly. Vague cries of 'Hold on Bilbo!' and the like reached his ears, but as the chilling water worked its way to his bones, Bilbo felt his grip slipping.

A dead orc body splashed into the raging currents beside him making Bilbo's hold slip even more in surprise. He managed a glimpse towards the bank and saw flashes of a fight going on between the woodelves and the orcs, with the dwarves chipping in whenever they could.

"Watch out!" someone yelled, Thorin, Bilbo guessed. He swung his head about wildly, trying to locate what exactly he was to avoid, but water splashed in his face prohibiting his view.

Quite unexpectedly, or perhaps he should have expected it, with his luck, the barrel the unfortunate hobbit was clinging to smashed against a rock, with him in between. Pain erupted in Bilbo's side and he let go of the barrel with a gasp. Water crashed over his head and he tried vainly to reach the surface, but each time he tried to suck in a breath, the water pulled him back down.

Bilbo fully opened his eyes and clawed his way up, or what he thought was up. He turned his head, trying to find light, and discovered it rather far away.

'_It's quite nice down here. Very pretty colors. Water isn't nearly as bad as all the other hobbits seem to think.'_ He thought foggily, as the burning in his lungs died and the intense pain numbed.

Abruptly, Bilbo found himself being pulled up by his curly hair, and broke the surface of the turbulent waters to be confronted by the side of a barrel. His senses returned as he automatically grabbed the top, though his grip was weak as he pulled in ragged, agonizing breaths.

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him steady. Bilbo looked up into the eyes of Kili, his savior, and perhaps he would have seen the strain in the young dwarf's face if he had been more aware.

Kili's hold was rather insecure because of the position of his arm, but he was desperate to keep their burglar safe. Bilbo, exhausted, managed to relax for a moment against the side of the barrel, right before it hit a high bank, and he went tumbling away.

"No! Bilbo!" Kili screamed, and made a frantic reach for Bilbo, but he was too far downstream.

As the floundering hobbit despairingly tried to gather his wits amid the dangerous waters, he crashed headlong into a rock, and fell unconscious.

Kili swung his head around madly, trying to spot the burglar, but could not see the curly mop of hair anywhere. He gave a start as his barrel smashed against the bank again and quickly focused on steering his form of escape from the elves. Bilbo was thrust out of his thought as all Kili's concentration fixated on the difficult task at hand.

Eventually, the remaining orcs retreated, and the skilled woodelves stopped their pursuit of the dwarves to go after the dark creatures. Thorin's voice called over the rushing river,

"Over here!" Kili maneuvered his barrel over to the low bank his uncle had landed on and breathed a sigh of relief as he rolled out of his barrel onto dry ground. The others did the same as they groaned and stretched their legs.

"Where is Master Baggins?" Thorin's voice sounded a bit panicked. Kili immediately felt terrified as the image of Bilbo summersaulting away down the river flashed in his mind.

"There he is!" Fili shouted, and promptly ran into the river and scooped up the hobbit with a look of concern in his face. "He's unconscious!"

That caused the others of the company to stand up, various looks of alarm on their faces. Fili ran back and gently laid Bilbo on the ground, where Oin kneeled beside the Halfling and checked his pulse.

"He's not breathing!" Oin looked at Thorin, at a loss for what to do. The king under the mountain swept aside the gathered group and whipped out his sword.

"What are you doing?!" Kili lunged toward his uncle, but Fili pulled him back.

"This will wake him up." Thorin mumbled. He placed the cool tip of Ocrist against Bilbo's pale neck, causing the hobbit's eyes to fly open in a panic. Barely a moment later, the hobbit was coughing harshly, and Thorin tenderly turned the hobbit over so he could cough up the water that had settled in his lungs.

Bilbo felt terrible, he couldn't breathe as more water kept coming up and started to form a puddle around his hands and knees. A large hand rubbed in between his shoulders, and he heard concerned mumbles around him.

"Master Baggins, _breathe._" He wanted to tell Thorin he was trying to, but water was still forcing its way up his throat, and his side throbbed horribly.

Thorin suddenly stopped rubbing his shoulders and the hobbit heard him gasp in surprise. Wondering what could possibly surprise the leader, Bilbo opened his eyes to find _blood _mixed with the water. His coughing subsided, and pain returned in full force now that he didn't have to focus on just breathing.

He moaned and crawled away from the puddle before collapsing on his back with his hand hovering over his side. Bilbo was too afraid to touch it; for fear of aggravating even more what he guessed were broken ribs. His mind was dazed with pain, and he could barely comprehend what was going around

Oin's gruff but quiet voice echoced loudly in the pained hobbit's ears.

"Master Baggins, sit up please. I must assess your injuries. Fili, help him up." The blond dwarf had been hovering nervously along with his brother, rushed forward and kneeled beside the drenched hobbit.

He placed his hand under Bilbo's head, which elicited a hiss from the hobbit. Fili's eyes widened and he shifted his hands to the burglar's shoulders.

Bilbo's eyes were glazed with pain as he propped himself against a boulder with Fili's help. Oin decied to check his head first, seeing that Fili was staring at his hand that was covered with blood after touching Bilbo's head.

Oin touched the back of Bilbo's head, which caused him to jerk away. The hobbit found, however, that moving caused more pain, so he stilled, eyes screwed tightly shut.

"Are you dizzy?" Oin asked a frown under his beard. Bilbo mumbled a yes and Oin hummed unhappily. "I do believe you have a concussion."

Bilbo just made a noncommittal grunt (which was very uncharacteristic of the polite hobbit), eyes still shut. When Oin reached down and touched his ribs though, he let out a pained cry and his face contorted in pain. Oin kept prodding all around the sore area, and Bilbo whimpered amid incredibly shallow breaths as a few tears slipped out of his firmly closed eyes.

Thorin's breath caught in his throat, for whatever the others and even he might believe; the king did care for the little hobbit.

"Broken ribs. I think they may be pressing on a lung. Master Baggins, take a deep breath." Bilbo tried, but found himself incapable, instead coughing up more blood. "The ribs have punctured a lung, from what I have gathered. All we can do is wait for it to heal."

Oin dug in his pockets, searching for something, then sighed in frustration. "We don't have any supplies, so I fear there is nothing I can do for the pain."

A ripping sound was heard and everyone turned to look at Thorin. He tore a piece of fabric off his tunic and handed it to Oin.

"Use it to bind his head." All of them noticed the uncharacteristic look of concern in Thorin's deep blue orbs, but they made no comment.

While Oin wrapped Bilbo's head, Thorin looked around; making sure no one was nearby. He glanced up at the sky, and a resigned look appeared on his face.

"We must leave if we are to make it to the mountain by Durin's Day." Thorin glanced around, noticing the looks on the company's faces. He sighed. "I do not like it any more then you do."

"Perhaps we could wait until morning. Set up camp in that copse of trees there. One night won't make much difference." Balin said reasonably. Thorin shot the white haired dwarf a look of gratitude, then looked at the others who were nodding their heads.

"It's agreed."

Oin turned to Bilbo. "Master Baggins, can you stand? Master Baggins?" There was no response. "He is unconscious again."

Without a word, Fili strode over to the comatose hobbit and picked him up.

Despite the risk, the company started a small fire, deeming it more important to dry themselves then possibly alerting enemies of their whereabouts.

The dwarves made beds out of pine needles and Kili grudgingly left Bilbo's side to go shoot some game for dinner.

Three roasted rabbits and two squirrels later, the company settled around the fire to sleep, all exhausted. Gloin took first watch, while Fili and Kili protectively placed themselves on either side of their burglar.

Thorin stayed up though, worried for the hobbit, and told Gloin that he would take first watch.

Much later, Thorin still had not awakened anyone to take next watch. The embers of the fire cast an odd glow on Bilbo's face, and Thorin could hear the burglar's quick, pained breaths across the fire.

Suddenly, Bilbo's face twisted and he gasped in pain. Thorin walked quickly to Bilbo and reached over Kili to pick the burglar up. He cradled the hobbit like a babe and shushed him, trying to soothe Bilbo's nightmare which were not helping his fragile state.

Thorin sat down and rested the hobbit's head gently on his shoulder, humming a tune under his breath to reassure him.

Bilbo's face twisted in pain and fear, and with a cry he brought up his hands to ward of unknown monsters.

"Bilbo." The name sounded odd on Thorin's tongue, but he tried again. "Bilbo, you're alright. It is alright. No enemy can get to you right now. Bilbo, it is just a dream. Wake up." Having experience with nightmares himself, Thorin knew what to say to break the hobbit away from them.

Bilbo's eyes fluttered open and blearily looked around. His voice was weak, pained, tired, and confused. "Thorin?"

"Yes, go back to sleep. You are alright. I will keep you safe." The dark haired dwarf whispered to his friend as Bilbo's eyes closed and he went back to sleep.

Thorin knew that due to the concussion, Bilbo would most likely not remember this, but Thorin held it close to his heart. It was one of the few times he had been able to comfort and love one he viewed as close friend and had saved him so many times. As it turned out, it was the only time.

**A/N: I hope you all liked it! This is a one-shot, but I might continue it if I get people who want me to. I really love protective Thorin, Fili, and Kili; and I imagine that Thorin did really like Bilbo. I couldn't think of a amazing title, but I like it. Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. Also, this may have some similarities to BlackBandit111's When Things Go Awry, but I honestly was in no way trying to copy the story. I just loved this idea, so yeah.**


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